


Buttons

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Reader always calls Jaskier a cute pet name in her head (like Jaskie or some dumb thing like that) and then one day accidentally calls him that in person after he does something adorable.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 35





	Buttons

You knew when Jaskier came by your house unexpectedly because he was “in the neighborhood” he was up to something. Jaskier only came to you when he had a scheme and he wanted your help. Today was no exception.

“Y/N how can you stand to break my heart like this, cruel woman?”

Jaskier’s voice is plaintive and pleading and he’s fixing you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster. You’re determined to stand strong but your resolve wavers as he continues to blink his long lashes at you, bringing attention to his soft, blue eyes.

“I said no, Jaskier, no I will not help you prank Geralt. It sounds like a good way to get murdered, frankly,” you reply.

“He wouldn’t kill you, he likes you best,” Jaskier argues.

“Yes but can you say the same for yourself?” you challenge. He bobs his head from side to side, eyes following the motion as he considers the question and weighs the pros and cons.

“Ah, not entirely, but it would be so delicious,” he says the last word slowly and gives a devilish wink and you feel your stomach do a flip.

“You’re so silly, Buttons,” you say. As soon as you’ve said it your body goes cold and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping against hope that he didn’t hear you.

“What was that?”

Shit.

“What was what?” you ask, playing dumb.

“Oh no, no, no, you called me buttons,” he says, wagging his finger at you with emphasis. You feel your cheeks go scarlet, but you stand your ground.

“And?” you ask imperiously.

“What do you mean ‘and’? Where did buttons come from and how long have I possessed this secret moniker?” he asked. You sigh deeply.

“Is there any chance you will let this go if I just ignore you long enough?” you ask. He makes a production of sitting on the chair you keep by the fireplace, crossing his arms and snuggling into the seat to get nice and comfortable.

“Right,” you say, taking the little ottoman in front of it for your seat. “Well, it’s pretty much been as long as I’ve known you.”

“That long? Why are you only now telling me about it? No wait – first answer where it comes from,” he says.

“I don’t know, I saw your face and it just sort of came to me,” you confess. He squints at you suspiciously.

“Perhaps it’s because you think I’m as cute as a button,” he ventures, a sly smile spreading across his lips. You try to scoff but it sounds hollow and false even to your own ears.

“More like, never fully does up his buttons,” you reply. He glances down at the large expanse of chest left visible by the parting of his undershirt as though he’s only just noticed it’s there.

“I didn’t realize it offended you,” he says and moves to finish buttoning it.

“It doesn’t!” you cry a bit too suddenly and loudly, reaching out an arm to pause his progress. His smile is disgustingly smug now and you want the floor to swallow you up whole and let you die.

“So I’m your Buttons, eh? Oh dear well that just means I have to get working on a name for you,” He says, tapping his mouth with his finger as he considers the dilemma.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

“Oh yes I do, it’s a matter of equity.”

“Nicknames aren’t currency they either happen or they don’t.”

“Hmm, well you say you chose this one because it just popped into your head when you met me, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Alright well let’s see if I can follow that train of inspiration. You could be “beauty” or “angel” or “object of my instant and unwavering adoration.” That one’s a bit wordy I suppose…”

“Don’t be stupid,” you murmur, your face burning red.

“If I went off of now it would be ‘tomato’ or ‘the most adorable beet’ but food names are a little passé I think. I know how about Thimble.”

“Thimble?” you echo.

“Yes, Thimble. You had one on your thumb when we met because you were altering the Countess’s gown. The Thimble protects and so do you as evidenced by your refusal to aid me in irking Geralt. It’s an item that is often overlooked but when it is gone it’s deeply missed. And thimbles and buttons go together,” he says the words as he leans forward in the chair, slowly bridging the distance between the two of you.

“Well I’m still not going to call you buttons out loud again,” you say, eyes glancing towards his mouth as he gets closer.

“Well that’s your business, Thimble, but I’m going to call you this for the rest of your days,” he says and he cuts off your protest with a kiss. 


End file.
